Run 2314 – 31st Oct 2011


Google Earth : Run 2314
We understand a number of Hashmen were placed under sedation after viewing the Junk Mail sent by Junk concerning details of a Medical Procedure. We have to assure all it was not what it appeared. E-Shit a.k.a Junk Mail cleverly set you all up for his latest promotion. He deliberately shocked you to get your attention. It is the Oldest Marketing Trick in the Book.

Recently, when he booked into a Medical Centre to have an in-growing toe nail clipped, he found the staff sitting around playing Bingo, sans Medicos. “Hello, Hello” he said, reverting back to the days when he was a Patrol Man at Les Girls, “what is not going on here ?” Apparently the Centre had run out of cash and the Medicos had all pissed off back to Pakistan. Well here was a challenge thought Junk Mail, a window of opportunity into the Medical World, one of the few areas in which he hadn’t tried his hand.

He recognised from running with the Hash, a high proportion of the male species are wimps, moaning about non-existent ailments and getting little sympathy even from the family dog, because they couldn’t produce any hard evidence of their near death plight. Well Hello ! Enter Junk Mail M.D from stage left. Forget the illegible doctor’s certificate, what about a fist full of pics of a hard core, stomach churning op in full colour with real blood !

What a bloody ripper of an idea thought Junk Mail, a pretend operation complete with tubes, drips, bottles of blood and pseudo medicos all growned and masked (any bugger in a surgical mask will do) with a professional photographer hanging about to take snaps of anything from a bowel procedure to a gall stone removal.

So there you have it. Just contact Junk Mail M.D at the Shangri-La Medical Centre. Give him a ring, you know he is very discrete. The full “Heart Valve Replacement Op” is mite expensive but produced in full technicolour is tremendous value for a throw-up. One to produce at Dinner Parties for your wife’s parents who you have never liked. Junk Mail guarantees it will send them home early, reeling down the driveway, throwing up in the back of the car on the way home.

And here is a thought for the Festive Season. Christmas Cards of an Op. What a ball tearer ! You will never need to send another one because no one will ever send you another one. And, there is the perfect alibi for the Dirty Weekend. Hobbling back, grimacing with “pain” and pleasure to the dear little wife on the Monday with gory glimpses of the car crash on the way to golf. But get in quick. Make an appointment now, you how difficult it is to see a real doctor let alone a pretend one.


Forecasted late showers did not eventuate, so a firm track greeted the Starters for the running of the 44th Hash House Wait for Age Handicap. Short Fuse, was an early scratching by order of the Race Marshall for acting up in his stall. Also withdrawn by the Stewards (Catering), were Tryer Truck, Basket Pressed, Pee Dub, Mr Neat, Circus Maximus, French Concoction and Lost in Translation.

Once the Coarse Marshalls, Ioweadollar and Assorted Petre, got all of the Pack to the Barrier, they were Off !

The Prancing Petard exploding out of the stalls left Private Parts stranded at the Post as he led a tight bunch down the straight to make the early running. Featured in the bunch were, Cinderella,(the Bookies favourite), Spud, Changi, Doggy Bag, Petit Merde andYakkity with Ketchup a couple of lengths behind.

Then there came a gap to Flasher, shining out in the rapid start, followed by Caliph See, Kyber, Last Chance Louie and Sin Bad, with Pleasant Plucker flying down on the outside. Tooth Fairy, whilst staying in touch with this bunch was noticeably pulling a bit. Tucked in behind this group came Run-into-the Muck nicely placed to make his mark, leading a further bunch consisting of Philthy, Druid, Carefree, No Good Boyo, The Little Dabbler and General De Gaulle. The Flying Scotsman gamely nursing a strained fetlock, brought up the rear. Dropping back was Scud who had to be re-shod immediately before the start and was finding it difficult to stay in touch.

When the Leaders came to the Five Mile Creek turn, Wrappers looked to have field covered and close behind him came Fandango and a wall of Runners. With the pace quickening, Jungle Jim and Poly Unsatisfied were pushing hard for a quick route to the Mounting Yard, which allowed Bigamist to double around for a rails run with Nautilus rising to the occasion to garb a handy outside position.

As they turned for home, it was noted that Swampy better suited to a wet track , was finding the firm going hard to handle. The Commodore seemed to be struggling also, and was getting a touch of the whip, whilst just inside him were XXXX and Pilko toiling on gamely. Spare Ribs the house wives choice, looked to have recovered from his fall in the Lane Cove Handicap, was being nursed along to the finish. Joining this trailing bunch, as the leaders turned for home were Centrepoint and Smiley, with Hanoi Bill barking away at their heels.

In a blanket finish in the race to the bucket, Moishe was adjudged to have got his mug in first, and landed the $100 prize money, closely followed by Sin Bad and Tooth Fairy.

French Concoction, lurking in the vicinity of the Bucket, was bowled over in the rush and consequently awarded Last Prize as a consolation.

In a subsequent hearing, The Prancing Petard, who failed to run a place and claimed interference mid-way through the race, was admonished by the Stewards for rough riding.

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